Oblivate
by bewarethemelodrama
Summary: What happens when a spell goes wrong and Draco and Ginny end up together in a dream world? Read and find out. D/G AU fic. Rated T for current content. May change to M if the need arises. Insert generic 'I own nothing' disclaimer here.
1. Chapter 1

Inspired by the _Angel: The Series_, episode 'Orpheus'.

I've been writing this for a long time, and didn't want to put it up until I finished it (probably because a part of me thought that I never would). So I haven't, but decided that getting some responses to what I already have might spur me on to finish it. Maybe.

Going to state it now: This is an AU fic. And I started it when I was fourteen. That's eight years ago. I mean, come on guys, this is Draco and Ginny, as much as I'd love it to become canon, it isn't gonna happen.

The chapters of this do get longer as it goes on, so please don't be put off by the (lack-of) length of the first few! It's just a stylistic thing I'm prone to.

This is my starter warning: whilst I always loved the Harry Potter books, I did have some issues with them. For one, English teenagers swear. Profoundly. So if it is appropriate to the setting, they will in this fic. Secondly, the UK has an astonishingly high rate of underage sex, teenage pregnancies, and all that. Legally you are allowed to have sex at 16 here. While I don't plan on writing smut, the idea that there is nothing going on at a co-ed boarding school is staggeringly naive. So allusions may be made, heavy petting may occur. It's just how it is. The other issues I had don't need to be addressed now. So on with the story :)

Not sure what else there is to say, other than I hope you enjoy, and please review!

**Chapter One**

_We do not remember days; we remember moments._

Cesare Pavese, **The Burning Brand**

"Take that back!"

The angry call sounded along the corridor from the lips of a black-haired, teenage wizard, his wand raised in shaking fist.

"Unlikely, mudblood," spat another wizard. Teenage like the first, but with a shock of silvery blonde hair rather than the dark hair adorning his counterpart. "I want to remember that look on the Weasel's face for the rest of my life. It was pure comedy." Another boy: wizard and teenage with bright red hair and gangly limbs, face almost as red as his hair from fury, pointed his wand towards the boy.

"Can't have that," he growled through gritted teeth. As the redhead shouted 'OBLIVATE!', another redhead stepped through a door beside the blonde. Both were hit with the stream of shimmering yellow light that emitted from the slender, wood object in the gangly-limbed boy's fist, and fell back, bodies tumbling over each other until they lay still. Books that the girl had been clutching to her chest now lay scattered across the ground. A high pitched shriek sounded from a blonde girl at the other end of the corridor, while the two previous males yelled.

"Draco!"

"Ginny!"


	2. Chapter 2

I would like to reiterate- I started to write this when I was fourteen. I am now twenty-two years old, but don't have to heart to ruthlessly edit it. Future chapters will be better. As it is, forgive me if the first 3(ish) are a bit shit.

**Chapter 2**

_A dream is your creative vision for your life in the future. You must break out of your current comfort zone and become comfortable with the unfamiliar and the unknown.  
_Dennis Waitley

Ginevra Weasley looked around, but could see nothing but white mist swirling around her in a seemingly endless chamber. She knew that she should feel afraid, but felt unable to do so. She knew that was strange, but was even disconnected from the idea of that. She felt numb. She blinked, testing whether or not the white mist would fade from her vision, and wasn't surprised when it remained. As she watched, a white figure emerged from the racing currents of mist. She knew the pale blonde hair which sat above his chiselled features instantly. Draco Malfoy.

"What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," he retorted, putting his hands into black trouser pockets. He looked around them, and Ginny realised his usual maliciousness had been replaced – although probably temporarily - with curiosity.

"Where is 'here' exactly?" Ginny asked, reaching out a hand and swirling it in the fog. Draco shrugged in response.

"Well, mini-Weasley, all I remember is your idiotic brother shouting, and… here we are. I think we're unconscious," he paused, glancing once more at their surroundings. "That explains the cliché choice of décor at least." Ginny sighed, remembering a certain spell involving slugs which had backfired on her brother Ron. He wasn't the luckiest when it came to spells going awry.

"What did he shout that made **this** happen?" she asked. Draco thought for a moment, grey eyes looking up towards more mist that surrounded them. His shoulders suddenly slumped and very slowly his eyes scanned back down to Ginny, one eyebrow arched.

"_Oblivate_. I always knew your brother was a useless wanker, the daft bastard said 'oblivate' instead of 'obliviate'. Buggered if I know what's happened because of his mistake."

"Well is this your head or mine?" asked Ginny carefully. She was irritated at her brother, but damned if she'd let Malfoy see it.

"Both I think."

"But I don't want to be in your head! God knows what's lurking around in here." Ginny's voice was carefully neutral. She hoped any concern would be masked by her sarcasm.

"Deal with it, Weasley," he snapped. "Do you honestly think I want to be here at all? No matter whose head this may be, the fact remains that we are stuck in a bloody dream world! Currently all I want is to get out of this fog. It's making me…" At his words the fog shone bright white for a moment, and then the currents moulded themselves into the corridor of Hogwarts that the two had previously been standing in, perfect in every detail, including Ginny's books scattered across the ground. Both teens looked around in surprise.

"And I want a pony?" tested Ginny.

"What the blo…"

A whinny cut Draco's sentence short. Very slowly he turned his head to look behind him, and saw a small, white pony trotting along the corridor towards Ginny. She stood, mouth open in awe, and did not move as the animal stopped before her.

"Well isn't that interesting," stated Draco in wonder. Ginny ran her hand along the pony's back, the white hair gleaming and soft beneath her palm.

"Oh, Merlin," she muttered. She looked over at Draco, and caught his eye. The two stared at each other in wonder for a moment, before Ginny looked to see the pony turning its head and nuzzling her waist with a shining white nose. Draco stepped forward and laid his hand on the ponies back curiously.

"Right. So we've established that if you want something all you have to do is ask," he laughed shortly "I'm guessing that won't apply to getting out?" Ginny frowned.

"I want to wake up," she tested. The walls around them seemed to shake for a moment, a dull shimmer between cracked stone, and then everything fell still.

"Are you daft, Weasley?" asked Draco, bewildered.

"No harm in trying," she countered.

"So there must be another way," he continued.

"We hope," she muttered. And at that moment, she really, _really_ did.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_Many of us crucify ourselves between two thieves - regret for the past and fear of the future.  
_Fulton Oursler

Harry Potter looked at his best friend, torn between amusement and worry. Ronald Weasley was wringing his hands as he looked down at his sister who lay prone and silent on a bed in the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts. On the bed beside hers, Draco Malfoy also lay silent. Both were breathing quietly, but other than the slow rise and fall of their chests they were immobile. With a sense of detachment, Harry looked at the pale redhead, her hair standing out like a bright bloodstain on the white sheets. She looked as if she were merely sleeping. Harry knew better than that. So did Ron, which was the cause of the tense expression on his face.

"You _stupid_ twat," hissed a voice behind Harry. He turned calmly, and watched as a blonde girl with a pug-like face rose from her seat and started towards Ron. "I swear if anything happens to Draco I'm going to have your head on a platter." Ron didn't respond and she prodded him violently in the arm. Automatically his hand lifted and snatched her wrist before she could deliver another prod.

"Do you honestly think I give two hoots about your Death Eater friend, Parkinson? I couldn't care less what happens to him, so long as I haven't done something to my sister," Pansy Parkinson made what could only classify as a squeal, and tried in vain to pull her arm free of Ron's iron grip. Knowing full-well that the girl had the intention to slap him, Ron tightened his grip so it hurt.

"You evidently _have_ done something to your sister," Pansy hissed malevolently "otherwise she wouldn't be lying over there!" Ron squeezed her wrist even tighter.

"Get off me you son-of-a…" protested Pansy shrilly.

"Stop. I think you've done enough here, Mr. Weasley, without adding harm to a second female pupil to your list." Professor McGonagall's voice rang out from the doorway. She sounded cold, but not hostile and she walked over to stand between the two beds in a brisk, official manner. Harry looked at her, feeling apprehension building in his chest. One glance at Ron showed that his friend was also feeling… well a mixture of things actually: fearful, uncomfortable, apprehensive, stressed and guilty to name but a few. McGonagall shot a withering look at the two, and Ron released Pansy's wrist under her piercing eyes. She shook her head briefly, a mixture of annoyance and disgust faintly evident behind the thin lips and narrowed eyes.

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat when the hawk-like eyes turned to him. He opened his mouth in a half-hearted attempt to defend his best friend.

"I neither know, nor care what started the argument which led to this incident, so save your excuses gentlemen," McGonagall cut him off. "As you know, fighting is strictly prohibited, and students doing magic in any corridor is a particular pet hate of Mr Filch. We have rules **for a reason**. Duelling and the practise of hexes or jinxes outside of Defence Against The Dark Arts classes is forbidden in Hogwarts **for a reason**. I must trust that you all now understand that reason?" The three teenagers nodded mutely as her glare passed over each of them. "Good. Magic of the sort you were attempting is closely monitored by the Ministry, Mr Weasley. Do you need to be reminded of what happened to Professor Lockhart, or would a trip to the Janus Thickley ward at St. Mungo's sufficiently refresh your memory?" Ron's face went grey at that and McGonagall continued. "The rows of Sleekeasy's Hair Potion bottles are the only remnant of his former personality. Though some may think that an improvement, you are not an Obliviator and if any member of this faculty ever catches you practising memory charms the punishment will be more severe than I give to you today."

"Yes, Professor," muttered Ron guiltily, his ears now a shade of maroon to rival his mother's jumpers.

"On that note you will serve detention every night for the next two weeks, including the weekends, starting tomorrow. So come to my office promptly at 5pm. Fifty points have also been deducted from Gryffindor due to your foolishness and an owl has been sent to inform your parents." At this news Ron paled considerably, the wrath of his mother well-known throughout Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. "Other than that," continued McGonagall severely. "I think that quite frankly, the guilt over what you have done to your own sister will be punishment enough," After a beat McGonagall added thoughtfully, "and to Mr Malfoy of course."

Ron managed to nod despite his slightly green complexion, and kept his eyes fixed resolutely on his shoelaces. Professor McGonagall turned to Pansy.

"You may go back to your common room Miss Parkinson, and I do NOT want to be able to trace any wild tales about what has happened here, back to you. Do you understand me?" Pansy scowled, her already pug-like nose scrunching as she fixed her blue eyes haughtily on the deputy headmistress.

"Yes, Professor."

"Then good night, Miss Parkinson."

After once last glare at Ron, Pansy turned on her heel and stormed out of the Hospital Wing. McGonagall sighed and shook her head.

"That girl…" she turned her gaze back to Ron. "Perhaps, Mr Weasley, you and Mr Potter should head to your dormitory. Try and get some rest. We'll inform you as soon as there's any change with your sister."

Harry and Ron left the Hospital Wing in a melancholy frame of mind, and neither spoke until they had pulled on their pyjamas and climbed under the sheets of their four-poster beds. Harry was removing his glasses as he heard the whisper from Ron's bed.

"She'll be okay, right Harry? I haven't… you don't think…"

"She'll be fine," replied Harry firmly. "Honest."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

"_Man's destiny appears as a thread lost in an endless labyrinth. I have tried to shed some gleams of light on the shadow of man startled by his anguish."_

Marcel Marceau

Ginny Weasley, Draco Malfoy had decided, was not quite as irritating as her older brothers, though did - on occasion - seem to insist on giving them a run for their money. Draco could cope with this, but only considering that he spent every day in the company of people such as Pansy Parkinson; intelligent he knew, but with the people skills of a slutty Gringott's goblin. Then there were Crabbe and Goyle who, Draco had suspected for a while now, shared an eighth of a brain between the two of them.

Draco allowed himself to relax slightly around the red-haired girl who was also stuck in… well, wherever they were. He sat and rested his back against the stone wall. He contented himself with the thought that, sister of a person he despised though she was, and long running feud between their families though there was, her mind did not work in the devious or conniving ways he would fear if the situation had landed him with a fellow Slytherin.

"Right, so we need to think about this logically," said Ginny, a frown creasing her freckled forehead. Draco snorted.

"And award for revelation of the century goes to Ginny Weasley!"

"Can you stop being vile for five bloody minutes?" she snapped.

"Hmm," he pondered it for a moment, "No. I'd rather not," Ginny glared at Draco.

"Look, Malfoy, we need to at the very least co-operate with each other if we want to cope in here," she blinked when she realised that she had missed the obvious, "and more importantly, get out of here!"

"You seem to be forgetting, _Weasley_," Draco spat the name, as if it had left the proverbial bad taste in his mouth, "that we don't even know what or where 'here' is."

"We have a vague idea."

"Everything about this place is vague, Weasley, or have you not quite managed to grasp that yet?"

"You know what?" Ginny snapped. "I don't know why I'm even **bothering** to try and communicate with you. I thought you might be interested in helping to figure out how to get out of here. A mistake, obviously." She sighed and began to walk down the corridor.

"Where are you going?" he called after her.

"Where does it look like?" she replied, rolling her eyes, "I'm looking to see if this is the same as Hogwarts or not." Draco realised, somewhat grudgingly, that this was probably a sensible idea. But he'd be damned if he let her see that.

"Wait."

She turned and looked at him.

"What now?" she snapped irritably. He stood from his spot beneath a portrait of a rather ugly witch, and walked to her side.

"Safety in numbers and all that," he replied, in lieu of an explanation. She shrugged.

"Fine."

Reaching the end of the corridor, the pair turned the corner to find themselves faced with a narrow, descending staircase.

"Not exactly the same as Hogwarts then," stated Draco, deadpan. He looked at Ginny, and saw she was chewing her lower lip anxiously. Glancing over to him, she tucked a stray piece of red hair behind her left ear, and then started to descend the staircase. He reached out automatically and, as he realised later, unintentionally grabbed her arm.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"What does it look like?"

"Stop being a foolhardy Gryffindor for a moment will you?" he snapped, "We have no idea what's down there!"

"Strength in numbers right?" she smiled at him and placed a hand on his hand gripping her arm. He withdrew it instantly.

"Fine," he conceded, "but I'm not to blame if there's anything nasty down there, got it? I warned you."

"Warning registered," she carried on her descent, and after a brief pause Draco followed. He fought back the feeling of claustrophobia. Malfoy's were NOT claustrophobic. So preoccupied was Draco with his mental chastisement, that he didn't notice Ginny stop suddenly in front of him, and knocked straight into her back. As he almost tripped, and she almost fell over with the impact, Draco had to grab her waist to steady himself and pull her upright.

"Watch the hands, Malfoy!" she yelped, pulling away.

"Get a grip little girl," he sneered automatically, "it was your fault. Who was the one who stopped suddenly?"

"Oh, stuff it, you overgrown ferret," Draco scowled, and was about to retort but found himself being ignored, as Ginny walked away from him. He followed her through an arched doorway into a circular chamber lined with several doors. There were flaming wall sconces in the gaps between the doors, so despite the lack of windows the pair found the room uncomfortably bright after the dark, narrow staircase.

"What in Merlin's name is this place?" asked Draco, not bothering to mask his astonishment.

"I'm not sure," replied Ginny honestly. She walked to the nearest door and pressed one small palm against it.

"Weasley!" the look she gave Draco was half lazy, half annoyed, whilst he was looking at her as if she had suddenly sprouted an extra head and purple feathered wings.

"What?"

"Do you make it a habit to just open unmarked, suspicious looking doors, or this just a treat for my benefit?" Ginny flushed slightly, then seemed to suddenly change her mind and glared at him instead.

"Well what do you propose we do instead? Sit in this room until we die of old age?"

"Of course not," he snapped, "just be a little more cautious. I don't want anything to happen to me because I'm stuck here with an idiot." In response Ginny pushed the door open as hard as she could, and it slammed against the wall behind it. In what he considered proportionate retaliation, Draco called Ginny a rude word. He received a very hard punch to the arm, therefore called her an even ruder word and she clenched her fists to stop herself slapping his face. Ginny sighed, disgusted with herself, as Draco fumed.

"For goodness sake. This is getting us nowhere," she placated, stepping away from him, "look it's just another corridor through there. We're arguing over a corridor," she laughed, "come on. Can we call a truce until we figure out what to do with ourselves?"

"I'm not making any promises or agreements with a Weasley," snapped Draco.

"Fine," Ginny turned her back on him, "then you can just rot in here for all I care. I'd rather be anywhere other than where you are." She stormed out of the chamber and along the corridor. Draco watched her uneasily, torn between saving his own skin and his pride. When Ginny turned a corner and disappeared from view, his self-preservation instincts kicked in and he set off at a jog after her.

The floor of the corridor was slanting upwards slightly, and as he followed the curve around Draco could not help but recognise the small knot of apprehension that had grown in his chest. He tried to convince himself it was natural, but was irked nonetheless. He spotted Ginny turning a corner ahead of him, and practically sprinted – which of course is not something that a Malfoy would do – to catch up with her. He almost ran into her back again, but caught himself.

"What is the problem now?" he asked, rearranging his robes when she looked at him.

"It's the same." She replied.

"Well we're not awake, so that's fairly obvious." He scoffed.

"No." Ginny said pointedly. "This corridor. It's the same. Look." He did, and realised that she was right. Her books were still scattered ahead of them, untouched.

"Consistency shouldn't feel so strange." He commented quietly. Ginny nodded, and stepped imperceptibly closer to him. "So what now?" Draco wasn't sure why he was looking to her for direction, but there it was. Her brow was creased in a frown, and she looked up the corridor towards where the stairs had been.

"Follow the yellow brick road." She whispered. Draco stared at her blankly.

"Right… What?"

"Never mind," she said dismissively, "it's a muggle thing." She started walking back toward the staircase, and Draco trailed after her.

"I think this place has impacted your brain, Weasley."

"Just. Shut up, okay? I need to think." Draco tried his best to look haughty and offended, but his heart wasn't really in it. He was starting to lose the calm feeling that had seemed to come with the fog, and just wanted to be back in the real world listening to Crabbe and Goyle discuss bludger designs.

He stayed silent, and followed Ginny as she descended the stairs once more. She pulled a bottle of ink from the bag he hadn't even noticed she still had with her, and marked the door that had taken them to the corridor with what looked like a knocked over number 8.

"What's the symbol for?" he asked, before he could stop himself.

"It means infinity. You know? Because that door leads us in an infinite loop?" Draco was impressed despite himself. He probably would have just put a splodge on there. Ginny turned and looked at him. Her eyes were sparkling, though with what Draco couldn't decipher. "Ready to see what's behind door number two?"


End file.
